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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
“ The Voice of the Smiling Generation”

“ The Voice of the Smiling Generation”

A Poem by aluminara

“The Voice of the Smiling Generation”         
        (“smiling generation”: an old-men term for ‘newcomers’)

I know a Pony, his name is Joy.
I see his Unicornland greetings every day
     alongside with jokes of pony sexism.
I touch his tricksy blinks in night-taken photos,
    nights such as these that make us remember the baths
    where we were smauged.
I hear, he talks
    sometimes like a demon
but
he also loves jumping up in the high clouds
    to receive his green sparkly-eyes.
[Once, in a green-eyed sky
    I saw his shirt
    -colorful of flying petals-
    bursting into flames like a fire-flower.]
Well, he’s lovable because he treasures nothing,
    even his wings,
    wings creeper than happyness
    -when he stands happy before happiness, two times more-
and he always fairly shares his fun with his friends.

[…]
I know a Pony his name is Joy, but I know nothing of his friends
-well… I know a foxy of his, but she is merely enough proof.
Once, I heard a night-old tale
about some to Candyland  Mountains visits
to several shinny-armor Knights
but
-as I realized-
smiling Knights are not be trusted in the night
    and always the same to their
    appealing Sticks of Death.

[…]
I think I know a Pony, I’m sure his name is Joy; but that was two years ago.

© 2016 aluminara


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Added on March 26, 2015
Last Updated on September 16, 2016